


To the lies we made ourselves believe

by tenmillionotters



Category: Bloodborne
Genre: Angst, Other, Post Cainhurst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 16:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenmillionotters/pseuds/tenmillionotters
Summary: They stared into his eyes, his lips moved but they didn’t process the words until the second they felt their hands wrap tightly around Alfred’s neck. There weren’t any words he could utter to undo the damage he had already caused, everything that was there before, was gone now.





	To the lies we made ourselves believe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Bloodborne fic, I hope you enjoy it!

A feeling of unrest had shaken them to their very core. A feeling of uneasiness was washing over them, it soaked into their clothes, tore up their skin and made a new home in their bones. The feeling of regret was lingering on their tongue, all this time that they had assumed that they were doing the right thing, the feeling of uncertainty had been mocking all of their good intentions. 

The odd gleam in Alfred’s eyes was enough to ignite the spark of doubt into a flame that slowly consumed them. 

How nostalgic the sound of ice and snow below their feet was, if it weren’t for the feeling of uncertainty pushing them further down the path, to the place where they put Logarius to rest. 

What was their hope, when they told Alfred about it? About everything they saw here? They felt the elevator rumble and shake, they could smell the molten wax, dust and old books. It wasn’t something they had thought about before, it was something they hadn’t noticed before, this once was a place inherited by living and breathing beings.

Now the foul stench of death was lingering in the hallways and they did in fact know who brought it here. As much as they wanted the blame to lie on _him_ and him alone, they knew that they were once again the force that set everything into motion. 

Howling cries and moans rung in their ears, they shut their eyes tightly running through the ghosts of the past that were only awaken by their own presence. They felt a blade dig into their chest, but they didn’t fight the feeling, instead they did what they should have done from the very start. 

Run away. 

Their arms were shaking, they could barely support their own weight climbing up the ladder to the upper story of the castle, feeling their blood splatter on the ground and all over themself. Still, no matter how much the wound was burning, nothing could come close to the pain they felt in their bones, the anticipation of what they would find in the throne room. 

One… two… three… three blood vials were enough to stop the bleeding, but the pain still lingered in their chest. They turned around and stared down at the countless, restless ghosts that were roaming these halls. If they wouldn’t be careful, they would soon be joining them, but maybe… maybe this was just the fate that had been waiting for them the whole time. 

Wouldn’t it be the ending they deserved? Just to suffer as much as those, that fell victim to their blade? How odd… where did these thoughts suddenly come from…? They felt a tired smile hush over their face before their tired mind pushed their body further towards the throne room. Memories of them dying danced inside of their head, memories they shouldn’t have, things they shouldn’t be seeing. They never died before. Or did they…? 

Maybe it was all just a bad dream, yes it was all just a bad dream it was - 

Blood, decay, molten wax, dust, sweat. 

It was a blur. Reality was a construct they never really understood. Dreams were an abstract they were living in. This was all just a bad dream, right? This wasn’t really happening, right?

“What are you doing here?” 

It was his voice, but at the same time it wasn’t. There was a threatening undertone, there was something in his voice that just wasn’t the Alfred they knew. Or maybe they didn’t know him at all. How naive it was to think that spending a few hours talking to each other would reveal a person’s true nature, but in a place like Yharnam, in a night like this… even the smallest gesture that could promise a gentle relief from the dread they felt, was more than welcome. 

“What have you done -”, their voice was trembling, their hands were shaking, clasping tightly around their weapons. 

“I did what I have to do, nothing else,” he slowly took off his helmet and smiled, it wasn’t a joyous smile, his eyes were empty, dead, whatever they had seen in them before was long gone now, “Don’t tell me you are grieving for that foul woman. I thought you’re a beast hunter.” 

“B-But she…”, she was a vileblood. They knew that. But still, wasn’t she also a living and breathing being with mind of her own. 

Sudden booming laughter filled the room, it was like thunder, it tore right through their chest, burned into their memory, it would haunt them for as much time was left in this never ending nightmare. 

“She was what? A human? You know as well as me that she wasn’t, or are you feeling pity because she still resembled a shape that you can accept as your kin? Look at you, a pathetic excuse of a hunter. Ah, no I forgot, you are a _beast_ hunter, making it easier to go on a murder spree denying the truth to yourself. It’s not beasts that you are killing, but I suppose their deformed exterior makes it easier to shift the blame onto them, doesn’t it?” 

Why did he talk like that? Why did he say things like that? 

“I am only doing what’s right -”, their voice broke under the weight of their guilt, Alfred was right, of course he was, this wasn’t his first hunt, maybe it would be his last but still… still they didn’t want to hear it. 

“You aren’t better than any of us. Stop pretending you are. You’re doing what’s right? You couldn’t even save the little girl that trusted you so much.” 

Slowly. So slow. The pain that spread through their body was slow, but it consumed the little pieces of their sanity that had survived till now. The sound of metal crashing against the floor echoed through the room, they felt their bodies crash into each other, hitting the ground. 

“Oh? Where is your composure now?”, Alfred started to laugh again, this hollow, disgusting sound, “Did I say something wrong? I am sorry, let me rephrase that…” 

They stared into his eyes, his lips moved but they didn’t process the words until the second they felt their hands wrap tightly around Alfred’s neck. There weren’t any words he could utter to undo the damage he had already caused, everything that was there before, was gone now. 

_“Maybe you did do her a favour though, death is kinder than the fate that was waiting for this poor child. Be proud of yourself, you did the right thing.”_

His eyes were still as empty as before, not even death was enough of a threat to provoke any response. This wasn’t Alfred no, this wasn’t Alfred at all, this wasn’t _their_ Alfred. 

“Come on… at least try to make me believe you’re trying to kill me. Wasn’t it easy to kill everything that stood in your way up to this point?” 

“SHUT UP!”, their fist crashed into his face, the small ornaments on their carefully crafted gloves that Alfred complimented before, now scrapped up his skin, buried into his flesh and drew blood. 

“Why? Are you so scared of hearing the truth?” 

“YOU’RE A LIAR!”, the next hit landed on his nose, it broke under the impact, blood splattering, flowing, “I AM NOT LIKE YOU! I AM NOT A MURDERER!” 

“You can’t ask them anymore, can you? Neither Gascoigne. Nor Henryk. The little girl. The countless humans turned into beasts. Amelia,” suddenly an emotion seemed to spark in Alfred’s eyes, the second his own blood dripped over his shaking lips, he seemed to come back to his senses… or whatever was left of them, “You’re just as hopeless and lost as everyone else is too.” 

“... maybe I am…”, they felt his body respond to the sensation of their weight pressing him down, desperate wishes they had before, now began to flood their mind, the longing to connect with another person in more than just a platonic way began burning brighter than the pain betrayal.

“You in fact are. You’re pathetic. Stop lying to yourself,” where did the pain in his voice come from? Who was he talking to? 

“I. Said. Shut. Up”, they pulled him up by his collar, their head crushed into his mouth, they didn’t use enough force to knock out his teeth, but his lips split open upon their first contact with the person he had been longing to kiss since the met. 

He let his body fall back on the ground, he fell quiet. Finally. They felt tears cloud up their eyes, they didn’t want to cry, he didn’t deserve it.

Alfred slowly took off his heavy gloves, his mouth was sore, the smell of dust, blood, decay and death filled his nostrils. He could finally breathe again, whatever he expected from the hunter it surely wasn’t this amount of raw strength, “You could have easily killed me with one of your weapons.” 

“I know,” they were still fighting with tears, with words that were stuck deep inside their throat, with a longing they denied existed until they felt their bodies pressed against each other in a way they could never even dream of. 

“Why didn’t you do it, you idiot?”

“Because this is personal,” they spat the words out, they bit down on Alfred’s finger as he pulled down their mask, but all it provoked was a deep moan, “... why did you have to… do it…” 

“I didn’t have any other choice,” was he seeking redemption? A purpose in life? Whatever it was he was looking for he finally found it, but he still felt empty. He felt a void nothing he knew could fill, but maybe they could, watching them cry _for_ him…? Because of him sounded better in his mind, watching them cry because of him let him feel a desire he never felt before. 

“... but…” 

“You can’t save everyone, you idealistic fool,” Alfred sat up and pulled them into a tight embrace, “You’re too late.” 

They felt his hands run over their body and they couldn’t fight, he knew what he wanted, he knew what they wanted. Their bodies responded to each other as if they had never known anything but the yearning feeling that they shared since the first time they met. 

Their lips touched and Alfred flinched in pain, they were repulsed by the taste of his stale blood in their mouth but at the same time they knew they would get addicted to it. It was a disgusting kiss, it was wrong, but they wouldn’t stop. They couldn’t bring themself to back off. 

Only now he noticed the distinct smell of their body, they held onto him tightly while he slowly untied their scarf, unbuttoned their shirt and let his head rest on their chest while his hand caressed their groin, “You’re really nothing more than an animal…” 

They let their fingers dig deep into his shoulders, they wouldn’t fight him now, “And even if so… what will you do about it…?” 

The words slipped over their lips with so much ease that it made him smile for a second, “I’ll please your primal desires.” 

Alfred was so much stronger than they were, there was no reason to protest or to fight when he picked them up and laid them on the ground, pressing their face against the cold tiles. 

“... God, look at you… practically begging for it…”, it sounded like he was growling, who was the beast now? Alfred pushed up their coat and shirt, pulled down their pants until they were almost fully exposed to him. He felt repulsion and lust wash over his body as his fingers slipped into them. They moaned in such a sweet manner, they were nervous but they slowly let go of their restraints. He wanted more. 

“A-Alfred…”, his fingers moved deep inside of their body, he was so gentle and careful while his breathing was heavy and aggressive, he didn’t want to be patient but maybe… maybe there was still something sentimental in his actions, weren’t they friends? 

He didn’t respond, he looked down at them, emotions were overflowing from his eyes, but they left his cheeks dry. Maybe they were both playing with fire right now, Alfred pulled his fingers back and breathed heavily. Was he going to back out of this - 

The sound of their voice whispering his name while he slowly entered them would burn into his memory for the rest of his life. 

It was such an unfamiliar feeling, it was hot and full, they felt their body welcome him, embrace him. Alfred grabbed her hips, releasing the pressure from their face and they inhaled sharply, the scent of dust and blood clouding up their mind. 

“You’re disgusting,” they really weren’t more than an animal in heat, if bloodlust reduced a hunter to nothing more than a beast, they were even below the beasts now. In between the warm candle light, the blood and the cobwebs, they lost themselves in each other. 

They couldn’t protest, they didn’t want to when they felt Alfred move faster, his fingernails dug so deep into their skin that he drew blood. It seemed like he enjoyed it, the more he drew, the harder he thrust into them. 

… or maybe he just responded to their body desperately begging for more. Giving into the pleasure was so easy, it was just as ecstatic as the bloodrain that poured down on them after they took down a beast together. 

… or was it? 

Alfred didn’t want to think right now, he only wanted to feel, he wanted to drown out the pain in his face, he wanted to forget about the words he hurled at them. He just wanted to feel their body wrap around him tightly. 

“More… More…”, hearing them beg for it broke something inside of him, it felt like they just erased all restrains he used to have, he grabbed their wrists and pulled them up. 

“You want more? Why should I give you want you want, huh?”, he could barely look at their face, their anxiety and fear made space for pure lust and indulgence. They used be adorable, like a scared little pet, now they were nothing but a tool to satisfy his needs. 

… or were they? 

“P-Please, Alfred please… I-I,” what in the world were they even saying? But in this morbid play, this game that neither of them would win, anything was allowed, “I want you.” 

He groaned as if he was displeased with how the situation played out, did he lose control? If so, they couldn’t help but wonder, over himself, them, or the entire scene that unfolded before him? Still, they could hardly move, he held them in a tight grip, making it impossible for them to take action and they loved it. 

They were nothing but a marionette. Since they came here they did nothing but follow someone else’s lead, dance to a melody someone else hummed for them.

Could he love someone who embodied his deepest flaw? He wanted to deny himself of this pleasure, no, they only had sex because the heat of the moment overwhelmed both of them. It was something a lot of hunters experienced. Bloodlust wasn’t just restricted to the thrill of the hunt. 

Alfred towered over them and slowly pressed them against the cold floor, he began kissing their neck, they held their breath knowing they would cry if they would allow themself to release tension. The sudden tenderness of his actions, the hint of an embrace and the warmth of his body were enough to make them break. 

They cried out his name once more, their voice breaking and cracking under the weight of their emotions, as he released himself inside of them. Would they have to deal with the aftermath of their actions? Who knew. Who could tell at this point. 

Alfred pulled back and sat down behind them. They didn’t move, they only breathed heavily. Silence fell between them and it was unbearable. 

When they turned to him, Alfred felt his heart ache under the pressure of his actions. They had never looked at him like that before, he missed the times when there was warmth in their eyes, now there was only fire. 

“Let’s do it again… but… at my pace this time.”

He couldn’t protest, he let it happen, he opened his arms for them and closed them around them tightly as they slowly sank onto his lap. A wave of dread washed over him as they began to whimper, he should have been gentler before… 

They wrapped their arms around his neck and buried their head in his shoulder. Looking at his face would mean they would have to face the consequences of their actions, something they had been running away from this whole time. 

How sweetly they moved, not that they were hesitant, but it felt like they were overwhelmed by their own emotions. Alfred held them tighter, something he should have done sooner. Something he would always regret doing. 

“Alfred I…”, he cut them off with a kiss, it was desperate, it stole their words. He he let his tongue slip into their mouth, leaving them with a feeling of nothingness when he pulled back. 

There was no need to say anything, these words would hurt more than the truth they couldn’t escape, because these words would open wounds that cut deeper than their guilt. 

He let his fingers brush over their face, the whimpered and moaned, a few tears began rolling down their cheeks, they stung in the open wound on his lips but he didn’t care. They could pretend to be lovers for a little while. He could kiss them a little more.

Feeling their hands resting on his chest, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, maybe in a different time, a different place, they would have had a chance to be happy together. 

They filled the void in his soul for as long as they were by his side, but he chose his path long before they met. 

Was it the slow pace, the desperate kisses or the yearning hug that drew this cheap act out for so long? Either way, neither of them wanted it to stop, but when their eyes met they felt their fragile connection coming to an end. 

Maybe it was cold, maybe it was wrong just to pick them up and push them away, but Alfred couldn’t let his feelings outweigh his rationality. He had served his purpose. They hadn’t just yet. 

There were no words left to say, the memories that burned deeply into their mind, so deep that they would follow them until the day they would die, were enough of a testament on his behalf. They would never forget him, nor the pain or the joy that he gave them. 

“I think this is where our ways part for a last time…”, he didn’t dare to look at them again, he didn’t want anything but the illusion of … he didn’t even want to name the gleam he saw in their eyes… he didn’t want anything but the ghost of an emotion he could call _love_ to be the last thing he’d see of them, “Farewell, my friend.”


End file.
